Naveed Akram Poems

To get real and being real are different,
One vixen is another fox, which stir
In reality itself, as they approach you
To test and command with naughty food.
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My hand was supported by the mantelpiece,
And I was liked to smile upon the solid picture,
That faced me with men and good picture,
Drawings of finite time, infinite space, and cosmic
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This monster barbarized with battle cry
The whole of my cubed head, kicking with its teeth.
The culmination was custom of its foraging,
Just to alienate the other liars, the monsters.
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The nomads of the east are upon us,
Life here is bleak, since armed combat is certainness.
The nomads of the east prefer clothing of beauty,
Happiest beauty prevails with battle, for it is duty.
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The marriage ceremony needs milk of the land,
Preparing sour milk is inadequate for this band.
In the winter, we strive to correct our lives,
Thus engaging in romance of the solid drives.
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I see wonders in this country never seen,
I open my vision tonight, in this country.
We are something of grandeur, often delighted
By the lies we acquire and abhor in this dusky nation.
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Words can not construe apt wisdom
For that amount of pain, those suffered feelings.
Inside me, the very inner being, there is gladdening,
More than that not, just too much emotion.
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An intention to maim is running, open to it,
Listen to the other half, and offer a sacrifice.
My, your soldier ran into a salary of beauty,
As one you surprise, bend and button up.
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The death of you, the blame fell on you,
Like a feather has fallen in steam.
We are in flames, we are in flames,
Frightened by those aims and flares.
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